


Civil Forfeiture

by sksdwrld



Series: Res Ipsa [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Multi, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1322044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saturday mornings at the Pendragon/Emrys/Camlann household.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Civil Forfeiture

Mordred woke up in the middle of the bed, alone. It was disorienting at first and he floundered to one edge. He snuck toward the bedroom door to listen. Downstairs, there was the soft babble of voices on the telly, punctuated by what Mordred thought of as kitchen sounds: the snick of silverware in the drawer as it was pulled out, the clang of nested pots and pans being jostled, the clink of cups being placed in the sink.

He went to brush his teeth and comb his hair, then made his way down to the first level of the townhouse. Arthur was sitting at the table, tea mug in hand as he read the paper. "Well, look who decided to join us?" He said, lifting a brow and sipping the tea to hide his smirk.

"Bout time..." Merlin agreed. He was standing, looking into the refrigerator with his back to Mordred, but he looked over his shoulder to flash a smile.

"Sorry," Mordred stammered sheepishly.

"Oh, don't be. C'mere." Arthur set his cup down and beckoned to Mordred, hooking him around the neck when he was close enough and pulling him in for a quick song.

"Yeah, you've been killing yourself on that case, lately. We thought you needed the rest," Merlin said before tugging Mordred away to deliver his own kisses.

Mordred would have been lying if he said that this wasn't his favorite part of the day; where they fought over him to share his affections. The truth was, he didn't have a favorite and he'd never be able to choose between them, but he'd be stupid to let them stop trying to win him.

"Thank you," Mordred said belatedly when he'd been released. He glanced at the counter where it looked like Merlin had breakfast in progress. "I feel rested. Is there anything that I can do?"

"It's Saturday," Arthur prompted.

With a cheeky grin, Mordred sank to his knees, right in the middle of the kitchen. He inched forward and then tipped, pushing his face along the inside of Arthur's thigh until he reached the apex. Arthur was hard beneath his pyjamas and Mordred nuzzled his length.

"Jesus!" Merlin groaned. "No, no, don't mind me, I'll just be over here, busy with the fry-up."

"Sod the fry-up," Mordred murmured. "I've got another end that needs tending to."

"Perhaps too well-rested," Arthur supplied, fisting Mordred's hair to keep him in place.

Merlin turned, cracking Mordred's backside playfully with a wooden spoon. When Mordred groaned softly, he swung more deliberately. "Sod the fry-up is right. I'm going to clean up, and I'll meet you in the other room in a minute."

Arthur scraped back his chair and as he stood, hauled Mordred to his feet. He considered Merlin a moment and then said, "Bring the spoon."

Mordred couldn't contain his grin as Arthur tugged him into the lounge and divested him of the clothes he'd donned only minutes before, then pushed him back to his knees. Some might think it would be overwhelming, but he couldn't imagine being anything less than the servant of two masters.


End file.
